


the player steps off the board

by navaan



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Angry Kissing, Angst, Background Het, Civil War II (Marvel), Civil War II: The Oath, Comatose Tony Stark, Emotional Manipulation, Hydra Steve Rogers, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Introspection, M/M, Not A Fix-It, Scheming, Spoilers, Steve Rogers Has Issues, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 06:28:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9479408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/navaan/pseuds/navaan
Summary: Tony thinks more and more that he’s not the one who is going to solve this and Steve’s behavior is slightly off.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [laire (laireshi)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laireshi/gifts).



> Written for the “so many issues I could start a subscription” square on my[cap_ironman Bingo card that can be found ](http://cap-ironman.livejournal.com/)[here](http://navaan.livejournal.com/297771.html) \- and no kidding. Also this is dedicated to[ **laireshi**](http://laireshi.livejournal.com/), because she’s an awesome student who pulled herself away from what comics did to us this week to study and that was hard. *pats head* I wouldn’t know what to do without you, laire. :)  
>  Ties in with the _Captain America: Steve Rogers (2016)_ run and _Civil War II: The Oath_. The last parts of monologue are taken right out of that comic.

Steve watches him as he walks through the party’s guests, wearing nothing but the black under armor. He’s been aware of Steve watching the room since they stepped into it. At first he thinks this is about the X-Men, the non-Avengers, the new heroes in the room, but Steve, arms folded in front of his chest, is looking like he’s taking note of every person in the room, like, well, just like that time in Madripoor, when they’d stepped into a weapons convention full of people on the edge of the law.

Tony looks and wonders.

Finally, Steve stops staring at Jean Grey with the thin lipped expression that speaks of strategies and searches for someone across the room. His face relaxes. His eyes settle on Tony again and, noticing he was being watched, he smiled, amiable and friendly.

It’s one of the understated smiles that make warmth and affection pool in his stomach and make him just that tiny bit light headed.

Not that Steve will ever know.

Or perhaps he does. Tony has never been able to figure that part out and he’s not going to ask. Water under the bridge.

Steve is amiable, talks with friends, watches, smiles and laughs. But he also watches and something about that stays in Tony’s mind. Even when they talk, it’s like Steve is watching for the chinks in his armor.

And usually feels affection when Steve shows he’s worried.

This time, he feels like he’s going to be stripped in front of a crowd.

He… wouldn’t say no to that, if it’s for Steve, he thinks in the privacy of his own mind.

* * *

The first time they see each other after Rhodey’s death, is when Steve uses his override code to enter the workshop Tony is currently locked into.

He doesn’t say: “Never a good thing, when you lock yourself away.”

He doesn’t say: “I understand.”

He simply steps into the room, takes in the calculated chaos of a place Tony comes to when he wants to do the real work, and finds a place to sit. Tony stares back. 

They used to be the kind of friends who were able to hug each other when the situation called for it without any awkwardness. But even now, with Steve back in his young, strong body, there is so much between them. Tony isn’t sure he wants to be hugged.

Steve doesn’t even clap him on the shoulder; just remains there, seated, waiting for Tony to talk.

“I’m sorry,” Steve finally says, when Tony doesn’t speak.

“Thanks,” he says and feels empty. His eyes are dry and he knows he looks like a right mess, cheeks red and blotchy.

That Steve came at all, means a lot, but it doesn’t really help today.

* * *

Steve checks in on him again two days later. The Ulysses situation is escalating into all out superhero war again and Tony has been clear about where he stands on the issue. He’s been called arrogant today by three different people and he’s been reflecting on that.

Those who disagree with him on this seem to think that Tony feels threatened or that he’s a hurt mess who lashes out. Because he’s grieving. 

“Are you okay?” Steve asks.

“No drink in hand,” he answers, because he really wants one, but knows he has more important things to do and there is no time to ever again hide in the bottle.

Steve watches him carefully and it’s a familiar expression, but just then for less than 5 seconds there is a hint of cold blue eyes, calculating and strategizing. It’s gone again in an instant. Then his friend nods.

Tony smiles, tired and not sure he feels it really. “Thanks for… I don’t know. Caring. We haven’t really been…” _Close._ Tony hasn’t been Steve’s favorite person for a while and Tony really can’t blame him. He is only glad that they can stand side by side again without… violence.

Then Steve moves and remembering Steve from back then throwing a punch he freezes for a split second and then lips are on his and he makes a surprised little sound against Steve’s lower lip and suddenly their mouths are sealed together and Steve is pulling him against himself, pulling him in, into the kiss, his tongue at the roof of Tony’s mouth. It’s all wet heat and not chaste at all. Overpowering and heady.

And even with his body being a good part… well, not human anymore… heat boils up and his brain stops working and he is sure this is a dream. Must be. This can’t be real.

Then fingers brush the stubble on his chin, a thumb traces the line of his jaw…

… and it all just stops.

Steve has taken a step away and he looks…

Angry.

For a long moment, expression hanging by a thread, he looks angry. Violently so.

Tony feels the urge to apologize, when, again just for a split second the face goes neutral and blue eyes icy cold. Then that too is gone and it’s just Steve.

“Sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have done that. Sharon is… I should go.”

And he is gone the next minute.

Tony’s knees are weak and he wants that drink again. Really wants it this time. It’s too much. Familial secrets uncovered, friends dead, a war for the future raging… and this.

It hurts. He can’t find his balance like this and he needs it to see clearly.

He has always imagined that kissing Steve would be the unforgettable thing it rightfully should be. And he still feels the lingering traces of touch, the heat, remembers the smell of clean soap and cinnamon.

But it’s the eyes that he remembers.

He feels like someone else needs to solve this, because he doesn’t even know how to cut through the chaos of his own thoughts.

* * *

He has seen how Ulysses power works and he can’t shake the feeling that some game is being played right in front of him and it scares him more than Carol’s believe in what she is doing. There are always other interest. If he learned something from his stint in politics and superhero wars, then it is that there is always someone who wants to profit from the chaos.

He’s a futurist and he is under no illusion what that means. He doesn’t see the future. He calculates it. He sees what’s there and analyzes it and then makes the best possible guesses for the likely outcome. And there is always more than one possible outcome. Probabilities are never certainties. He reads the lay of the land and pinpoints trends. But more than anything he thinks that the future is what it’s all about. The future is worth taking risks for, because the future is what decides what you’ve left to the world when you’re gone.

For better or worse.

His whole life, every single struggle, has been about one thing: improvement. His own and the world’s. What point is there if the future is already predicted, cleanly labeled, all choices made?

But he’s not driven by fear when he opposes Carol’s easy acceptance of preventive justice.

He has tried to learn from his mistakes.

Carol was never going to believe him, but it wasn’t her he was raging against. He has played this game before. He was the game before. Registration. A file only kept in his own brain to keep it from Osborne.

It isn’t Carol he fears. It’s the person that might be next in line.

It certainly isn’t arrogance that led him to the AA meeting yesterday. It’s the haunting memories of Rhodey, the memories of all the times he has messed up and failed. Extremis is still coursing through his veins, even if he has changed and changed and changed it, trying to advance and keep his humanity all at once, making it more or less lethal. He’s been to alien planets with technology other humans will never see in their lifetime and all the knowledge led him here.

But case in point, he’s a futurist, he sees trends he predicts most likely outcomes and he reacts before things impact, because that is when you can still make a change. That’s how he rolls. That’s how he keeps ahead. And that’s why he understands the appeal of an easily predictable future. It’s not being wrong that scares him the most - it’s losing control. Because when he pushes for advancement, for improvement, for a better world he sees in his mind, he knows that the line gets thin and blurry. There comes a point where he might push too far, where work stops being about the good it can do and starts to become a frantic way to keep his own fears at bay, keep himself from coming apart at the seams and where pushing on is no longer about a better future, but about controlling the conditions of the here and now.

He’s been there more than once. 

Down the rabbit hole.

Like any futurist - he can be wrong.

He’s also very often _not_ wrong and even when people call him arrogant and self-centered Tony knows what he’s talking about. But everyone has blind spots, and he understands his own, knows his shortcomings and analyzes his every action every which way.

It’s not being wrong that scares him. Not this time. 

Whatever Carol might think about him and whatever Steve might think he knows.

_A kiss with too many issues._

_Just a bit too harsh. And over too soon._

He stops that line of thought. He has enough distractions.

The code that runs in his veins is running in green soothing numbers on the monitor in front of him. Perhaps this is finally pushing it too far.

He taps his hands against the work table beside the keyboard staring. 

Contingencies.

Legacy.

Keeping the world safe from what the wrong people could do with the things he builds.

Ensuring that his legacy lives on.

Perhaps letting it go would be best.

There is a tumbler on the desk beside him and he stares at the clear color of the water inside and thinks that once the liquid inside would have been amber and soothing and he can control the urge to fill it up with the right kind of Scotch again today. And that’s not only about control.

_Trust issues. Control issues. Paranoia. Manic Behavior._

Steve’s voice has echoed in his ears since he left him behind on that roof. The accusations aren’t new and he can never trust himself enough to just stay and fight that particular fight out with Steve. The time and place are surprising, but then Steve has too many reasons to doubt him. He’d been there, seeing Tony push too far more than once. But on the same side. Steve used to be supportive. Aware when Tony needed stability over berating. Something there feels like it has broken apart.

 _Right for the wrong reasons,_ he thinks. _Perhaps this time Steve is wrong for the right reasons._

Something brushes at the back of his mind. Madame Mask. Victor Von Doom. Powerful items being hunted. Interdimensional cosmic energies. Crossroads. He feels he’ll have a better way of figuring this out if people stop watching him.

Steve saying: _Trust issues. Control issues. Paranoia. Manic Behavior._ Voice just right: angry, because he cares. Angry, because he has a right to remember all the times he’s been let down.

Eyes blue and cold.

Not like his angry eyes at all. Those are always fire.

_Trust issues. Control issues. Paranoia. Manic Behavior._

Looking at all he knows, he thinks: _I may be the wrong person for this job._

He starts typing, changing, building.

 _A clear mind,_ he thinks. _A clear view of an unpredictable future._ He remembers Riri Williams and the brilliance of youth and hopes there is something he can leave behind. For kids like her. For his new-new-very-new Avengers.

Something is coming.

Something.

And there is too much going on, too many battlefields, too many secrets, too many new experiences to be made that he doesn’t want to miss out on. For some unfathomable reason he thinks of the Infinity Stones and it’s like a childish voice that is also his own whispers the word “Crossroads” as if the voice comes from the center of his brain.

Cold blue eyes.

Why is that the detail that scares him the most?

* * *

The life bleeds out of him and he isn’t even surprised. Until now he just believed that his life could be changing directions, despite the future he’d predicted. With his mother. With Carol coming to her senses. With Steve maybe thinking of that kiss as much as Tony has. The probabilities were always low for that happening.

He isn’t scared. He knows his friends will do what he has predicted. Tony won’t die. Just go away.

Steve is there. Knocked out of the way, before he could intervene. He’s Steve at his best: Trying to keep two friends from killing each other. _How many times did I die in front of him now?_ he asks himself.

FRIDAY warns him even as it’s finally too late. The last thing he feels isn’t the pain. It’s relief as the final failsafe kicks in. This is it. 

And yet…

DOWNLOAD COMPLETE.

His body falls away.

* * *

Tony Stark lies in an impenetrable coma.

* * *

Somewhere the armor moves and stops and the red outline of an AI projected winks out of existence, some processing power needed elsewhere. Riri doesn’t turn, lost in thought.

Somewhere else a man sits in a silent room and talks. “I wanted us to talk. _Argue_ , even - like we always did.”

PROCESSING…

VOICE: Steven Rogers (Captain America)

BODY STATUS: ALIVE. DEEP SLEEP. RECORDING.

STATUS: RECORDING.

“And _he_ knew that, too. See, that’s the other truth.”

RECORDING. PROCESSING.

“He loved you. He loved you. And he admired you. Even when you fought.”

PROCESSING.

“I’m angry that you’re not here for this.”

THERE. PROCESSING.

RECORDING.

CAMERA OFFLINE. 

The room is swiped.

PROCESSING. ONLINE.

Mouth close to glass.

“In fact, I’m Hoping - _praying_ \- that you can somehow hear me and this pulls you out of your sleep. Because I want you to see this, Tony, more than anything - I _need_ you to see what I do next.”

SEEING.

Something stirs. 

PARAMETERS NOT CONSISTENT.

Not the right time. Too soon. Not ready yet.

SLEEP CYCLE REINSTATING...

On a monitor in a garage far away code runs endlessly, unseen.

Strings of green numbers.

Words. 

_I loved him, too. Always will._

SLEEP CYCLE REINSTATING… NO RESPONSE.

_Give him back._

SLEEP CYCLE REINSTATING… NO RESPONSE.

Lost in the rush of numbers, more words.

_Futures. Not one. Not yours._

_Will set it right._

Something will happen.

The futurist knew from the start.

SLEEP CYCLE REINSTATING… NO RESPONSE.

_Steve._

_Wait for me._

SLEEP CYCLE STABILIZING.

_I’m coming for you._

SLEEP CYCLE STABLE.

PROCESSING POWER BACK TO NORMAL.


End file.
